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bangtanflirt · 7 months

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(Un)natural Instincts (Part 8)

*Series taglist is closed.

angst, fluff, smut

Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.

Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5 > Part 6 > Part 7 > Part 8 > Part 9

General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property (Minors DNI, 18+ content)

Specific Warnings: pretty mild smut with references to past group sex (consensual), sexual aversion due to past trauma, ptsd, panic attack

____

Jimin makes his way through the maze of a house, scent-tracking locked on the youngest caretaker hybrid until he’s led right to the door. He knocks softly, waiting for Taehyung's permission. Jimin looks at the scene, first in awe at what his packmate is capable of, but following with concern immediately after.

“That looks incredible, Tae.”

Taehyung says nothing, simply locked in on what he’s creating.

“But is it alright for you to be doing this? Your knuckles, aren’t they still healing?”

The hybrid winces at the mention of his knuckles.

“They’re fine” is all he mutters under his breath. His knuckles were almost healed by now, thanks to you insisting on bandaging them up on his first day. The wolf had also started eating meals on his own again, but it was hard for others to tell if the wounds were healing when they’ve been hidden under bandages for so long—making his pack unsure if he was actually in less pain or just trying not to show it.

It was a primary concern Namjoon had, one that would have kept him from sharing this idea with Taehyung at all. Namjoon knows better than anyone how Taehyung thinks, how defensive he would get at the mention of his knuckles at that moment. The last thing the young hybrid would want is another reminder of a time he messed up—another time he couldn’t measure up to his caretaking duties the way the other two do. The Alpha had to be crafty in his earlier check-in:

“Hi Tae,” he looks down past the hybrid’s face, “oof, let me see those hands.”

Taehyung shamefully puts his hands up for his Alpha to take in,

“I told you biting your claws isn’t a good habit.”

He had taken the wolf’s hands under the guise of checking his over-bitten fingernails, grazing his knuckles with just enough pressure to make Taehyung squirm if he was actually in pain. It’s only when his pup didn’t show any sign of hurt did the Alpha propose his plan. Ever so tactfully.

And if their Alpha was in the room right now, he’d no doubt glare at Jimin, before changing the conversation. But Namjoon is out on his walk, and Jimin doesn’t know any better.

“Are you sure? Can I see under the banda—”

“I said it was fine. I know how to take care of myself hyung.” The annoyance in his tone clear as day.

Jimin shrinks, not understanding why his gesture of concern is being met with such hostility.

“I just want to make sure they’re healing properly.”

Taehyung turns around to face his packmate, eyes mirthless, “Knuckle strikes stop hurting by the sixth day, but you wouldn’t know that, would you? You’ve never been the one who gets hit. Now, if you could leave, that’d be great. I need to finish this.”

Jimin closes the door with pursed lips, unable to say much. It didn’t go unnoticed that Taehyung was slowly putting a distance between them (and Jin) ever since the orange juice fiasco, but to explicitly hear something so close to “fuck off” was jarring. Although the pack was close before the lab, it was Jimin and Taehyung who were always a little closer to each other. They were the ones getting scolded together, bickering over the dumbest things, and cuddling the closest at night—the others would say that the two had a bond more inseparable than a pack bond. But all that changed during training. Instead of both getting scolded by their Alpha for some mischievous prank gone wrong, it was now only Taehyung getting punished. And this time not with Namjoon’s stern words, but with strangers in white coats picking him apart mentally and physically, until the only thing he could do was wail against the cold floors of the time-out rooms.

Jimin would try to teach him, would spend hours helping Taehyung understand how to properly hold a kitchen knife or cradle a bundle-of-blankets as a makeshift baby. But there was no improvement, his clumsiness and boyish nature would always get in the way of training. There was only so much the two older ones could do to help, especially when their pup would get frustrated quickly and give up until the researchers came to dish out punishment. It would hurt, watching him get tortured over and over again, but at some point, the hormones shifted their priorities, making them turn a blind eye—just as everyone did with Hoseok’s food portions.

Jimin knows it’s selfish to act like him and Taehyung are still the same inseparable pair, to approach him with contrived obliviousness, but he can’t help it. It’s easier to think this way. To think they are still strong in their love for each other.

“You okay?” The voice almost causes Jimin to jump back, before seeing the source.

Yoongi, with furrowed brows as he looks into the hybrid’s glossy eyes. Jimin doesn’t even notice that he’s tearing up, hands intervening quickly to wipe them away.

“Yeah.” He doesn’t stay around for conversation, hurrying away to the hybrid room.

It’s just as Jimin’s walking away that Jungkook comes into view. He only saw the last second of the interaction, with Jimin wiping away his tears, but he gathers everything he needs to know.

“What did you say to Jimin hyung?” The tone is accusatory, causing Yoongi to put his hands up in defense.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I don’t believe you. You seem good at making people cry.”

Ouch.

Yoongi may be human and he may be your guest, but Jungkook doesn’t see why he has to keep being obedient and polite to someone his owner isn’t even on good terms with. Still, it’s the first time since after training that he’s talked to a human with such an attitude, and he himself is caught by surprise. It’s ever so slight, but still a peek into his old self—the wild Jungkook with a sharp tongue and bristling personality.

“Okay, I deserve that, but he came out of that room and started crying. I don’t know what happened.”

Jungkook eyes the door, heightening his senses and focusing. Taehyung’s sour scent emanates strong enough for the wolf to put the pieces together. It’s not the first time Taehyung and Jimin’s scents started souring around each other, but it’s a topic Jungkook doesn’t dare touch with a ten-foot pole.

“Sorry” he mumbles.

___

Jimin doesn’t get to cry into the bed like he was hoping to—because there’s already someone else crying there.

“Hyung?” It’s a soft whisper, but it prompts Hoseok to look up with puffy red eyes. He doesn’t try to hide the tears as Jimin comes closer. Jimin situates himself under the blanket, keeping a small gap between the two bodies.

“Hyung, talk to me please” it’s as much of a plea for Hoseok’s sake as it is for his own, not thinking he can handle being turned away from two of his packmates in a row.

Luckily, Hoseok doesn’t snap at him or push him away, instead staring with imploring eyes. Your words ring in his mind.

Hoseok, no more lying. Whatever’s on your mind, you have to be honest and let us help you.

Whether or not you meant it as one, it’s a command to him.

“I can’t stop thinking about the stuff they made me do at the lab. It’s like every five minutes my mind goes back there again. Before, I could just disassociate and jam it all into one part of my brain, but that’s getting harder to do ever since the collar came off. Now every time I even blink, I think about those people…how they would use me…and I feel so dirty Jimin. I try to scrub it all off in the shower, the feeling of filth, but no matter how hard I scrub, it doesn’t go away.”

Jimin doesn’t respond—doesn’t know how to respond. Instead, he opens up his arms, slightly reaching out but still not touching the older wolf, just in case he doesn’t want it. But Hoseok’s quick to roll into his packmate’s arms, pressing his head against the brunette’s chest as his hands come to hold him tight. Jimin feels his shirt getting soaked through, tears staining the light blue cotton. The two stay intertwined for a moment, with Jimin’s hands massaging through Hoseok’s hair until the crying turns into soft sniffles. It’s then when Hoseok pulls slightly away, making eye contact with Jimin, with an expression the younger wolf can’t quite read.

“You…you can fix me.”

Jimin’s face contorts in surprise, but Hoseok stands firm in his statement.

Of course. Why didn’t I think of this sooner? If anyone can help me, it’s Jimin.

Jimin, who, before all the training and experiments, had the biggest appetite for sexual intimacy. The one who would cling onto each packmate and beg to feel them every chance he got, make their good days better and bad days bearable—all with lustful words and sensual touches.

“You can make me forget them…can replace those memories. If anyone can remind me how good it feels to be touched again, it’s you.”

Jimin looks into Hoseok’s eyes, seeing more hope than he has for a while.

Is it really that simple?

Jimin thinks back to pre-lab days, when that is exactly how he would console his hyung. There’s been many days when Jimin’s eagerly used his body to dull down Hoseok’s anxious scent…is it really no different this time, even after everything?

“We can try” Jimin concludes, untangling himself from Hoseok to lock the door, not wanting any interruptions if this is to be done right.

He dips back into the bed, gently pulling his hyung to sit up, until he can comfortably sit on his lap. It’s all a little rusty to Jimin, who’s had his mind focused too much homemaking to feel sexy in a while, but he’s hoping it’ll come back to him.

“You have to stop me if it gets too much. Promise?”

Hoseok nods, but Jimin makes him say it out loud before diving in for the first kiss.

The kiss feels novel, with both of them chasing after the other’s soft lips. It’s not long before it turns hungry and deep—noses touching and soft whimpers being spilled into each others' mouths. Hoseok, surprisingly, isn’t thinking about the lab at all. He’s thinking about nothing except the man on top of him, reveling in the way Jimin’s tongue sneaks into the mix.

Jimin’s losing himself too, getting back into the groove of his old self, gently rocking his hips as he gets comfortable, fingers snaking back into his lover’s hair—almost about to kiss down before remembering the bandages. It's been over three months since he's felt love like this, and his body's been yearning for it more than his mind even knew. Each second of the kiss reminds him of his old self: the way he'd be at the center of his packmates' passion-filled endeavors, always begging for everyone's attention. They'd give in easily, spoiling him, filling him up just right as he was passed around between warm bodies. It's a feeling he doesn't know how he's lasted so long without.

Everything's good until it isn’t.

Good until Hoseok feels Jimin’s length poking through, while his own is still soft and unable to stir up. Good until the other man’s hardness triggers the faces of ten random research participants who had their hard lengths pressed against him in the same way. Instead of going away, the memories come back more vivid than ever. Suddenly he wants to vomit.

“St-stop!”

Everything stills. Jimin snaps out of his lustful gaze in a second, face scrunching up as Hoseok’s vanilla scent starts burning. The caretaker hybrid quickly hands him water from the nightstand, waiting until after a few gulps to cup his lover's face into his hands. Hoseok’s chest is heaving from panic, eyelids feeling heavy and stiff, but Jimin pulls him back into his chest.

“Breathe with me, just focus on breathing.”

He does as told, putting full attention on the steady pace in which Jimin’s chest rises and falls against his eardrums. He tries to mimic it, but the panic in his lungs turns every breath sporadic.

“I’m sorry…I thought if it was with you I could…but I couldn’t…fuck…”

“It’s okay hyung. I’ve got you. Don’t think about anything but breathing for now.”

It’s not until Hoseok’s breath truly steadies that he speaks again,

“I’m such a disappointment.”

“No, you’re not.” His voice is unwavering, planted firm with conviction as he continues, “There’s nothing wrong with needing more time to heal.”

“But what if it’s permanent? What if I can never be that way with you guys ever again?”

How can he even preserve his relationship with Jimin alone? Sex has always been the wolf’s primary love language, and his libido will surely go back to normal soon...what will happen if Hoseok can't satisfy him anymore?

What if he can never love me the same? What if none of them can?

But Jimin’s quick to shut Hoseok’s inner demons down.

“Then we’ll just have to double up on everything you are comfortable with, whether that’s hugs and kisses, or just conversations. Our love for you has never been conditional hyung. Sex or no sex, we just need you. Our Hobi.”

It’s the way Jimin says it, like he’s never been more sure of anything in his life, that make Hoseok’s chest feel a little bit lighter.

“Stay right here. I’m going to grab some of that waffle cone ice cream I saw in the fridge, and we can put something on the TV.”

“But we haven’t had dinner yet. We shouldn’t skip to dessert.”

Jimin smiles at the way his hyung pouts, not expecting him to have such a clear stance on ice cream before dinner.

“Relax hyung, just once is fine.”

___

It’s 7pm when the main door clicks open. Two and half whole hours of you and Namjoon walking around and talking about everything and anything. You feel a little guilty using him as your therapist, but find yourself unable to stop oversharing when it comes to him. He’s bulldozed the walls you put up at this point, and not even by trying that hard—more of a kindred spirits kind of thing?

You don’t know exactly what yet, but it’s insane how much he knows about you in just three days. The hours just kept passing by and neither of you wanted to end the conversation, ending up stopping by a Chinese place for take-out when realizing it was time for dinner already.

It’s Yoongi who notices the closeness the most, seeing how easily you smile at the pack Alpha. And this time it’s not the “I’m a safe person” or “You’re doing really well” kind of smile you’d flash to ease the hybrids’ nerves, but more of a smile you’d show a friend. The kind of smile he’s used to being the only recipient of. But he knows just how badly things went last time his jealousy was involved, so he focuses on serving himself some rice, hushing that little green voice in his head.

“I’ll go give this plate to Taehyung hyung” Jungkook announces, a generous heap of orange chicken and fried rice on the platter.

“He’s still not joining us?”

“Don’t worry y/n. He’s in his zone right now!” That’s all the youngest says before speeding off, hair bouncing cutely with each step.

“I really want to ask, you know?”

Namjoon laughs, “You’ll find out soon enough.”

‘Soon enough’ turns out to be an hour after dinner, when the boxy-grinned brunette makes his way to you. You can’t help how relieved you feel seeing that smiling face again. In his hands is a messily wrapped object, and you raise a questioning look at your Christmas wrapping being used in February.

“It’s the only wrapping paper I could find” he pouts cutely, nudging you to take the gift.

You try to unwrap it neatly, but the random way it’s been wrapped makes that impossible, so you end up tearing through.

On the surface, it’s nothing special, just a bunch of printer paper stapled together with the words from your ruined book rewritten on each page. But as you flip through, you see them: pencil-drawn images of you and your grandmother sprinkled throughout the “book.” Some poses you recognize from the pictures in your study, but others are completely new compositions, drawn straight from Taehyung’s mind. And it’s all so well-drawn.

“Taehyung…where did you learn how to do this?!” The awe in your voice makes the hybrid’s shoulders rise, pride evident on his features.

Namjoon, equally proud of his pup, chimes in to answer.

“Taehyung’s always had this unbelievable gift when it comes to drawing and painting. He’s basically a genius at art.”

You look up at the mention of painting, “Wait, you can paint like this too?”

The wolf nods.

“If I get you a canvas and some paints, could you make me a portrait of her for the living room?”

“Yes! I would love to!” The wolf practically squeals at the thought of getting new paints.

It’s still not your grandmother’s book, and it’ll never have the memories you two made, but there’s something so beautiful in the way he’s portrayed her—so captivating how the glint in her eyes feels alive, as if she’s telling you that she’s still with you through her gaze alone. It’s clear that Taehyung tried his absolute best to make it up to you (and thank god for that, because you don’t have it in you to be mad at him for any longer).

You bring him close into a hug, to which he jumps into, mouthing a “thank you” to his Alpha from behind your gaze.

___

Jimin and Hoseok wait patiently until you’re done with wound care and out the door, clearly having something they need to get off their chest to the pack. It’s the younger one who recounts the day’s events, giving the elder one gentle hand squeezes throughout to keep him grounded.

There’s not a wolf listening whose face doesn’t fall instantly.

Namjoon takes lead in responding, to no one’s surprise. “We all have to be careful moving forward. Only give Hoseok affection on his terms and no initiating anything sexual with him, understood?”

Everyone nods, but the wolf in question just groans, "The last thing I want is you guys having to be careful around me. I don't want to be a burden."

"Not careful around you Hobi. Careful with you. Careful with the way we love you for as long as you need. It's not a burden because you're fucking worth it, and I won't hear anything otherwise...unless you tell me you'd find it a burden if it were any of us instead."

That shuts Hoseok up quick, because if it were any of the others, he'd give every inch of his energy and love into helping them heal. He'd pour everything in his soul to give his packmate what they need and when they need it. The word 'burden' wouldn't come into his mind at all.

“C'mere pup, how about sleeping next to me tonight?”

It takes a second for Hoseok to realize Namjoon is talking to him—the nickname ‘pup’ not being typically his. Namjoon may be a couple months younger, but it feels nice to hear the name spill from his lips. Makes him think he can be small like a pup should be, and taken care of like one too. He sees why the younger ones like the name so much.

His mind feels a little calmer the second Namjoon's hands wrap around his waist, telling him how proud he is of him for opening up. Assuring him that everything will be okay.

___

It’s well into the night when Jin carefully removes each limb piled on top of him, glad he chose the bed’s edge tonight. He’s learned it’s the best spot for him, easy to slip out when the insomnia gets unbearable. He tip-toes to the living room, deciding to read another one of the random books on the bookshelf like he did last night. But this time, he’s not alone. The living room is already dimly lit, and Yoongi’s lost in a book of his own, sinking into that recliner you love. It’s too late for Jin to retreat, as the two make eye contact.

“Can’t sleep either?”

Jin nods his head, “I can—um I can go somewhere else. Don’t want to disturb you.”

“I wouldn’t mind some company, to be honest. Most people in this house aren’t big on being in my presence right now.”

“Y/n’s our owner. Whatever fight you two are in, we’re not going to be on your side.” It’s not a challenging tone like Jungkook’s, more of a matter-of-fact statement.

“She’s not your owner and you’re not pets. Whatever’s going on with me and her is between the two of us, and we’re figuring it out. So please, grab a book and sit.”

The wolf timidly reaches for a book from the shelf before settling down on the sofa, the last part of Yoongi’s sentence sounding too command-like for him to refuse. He’s still your guest, and his commands still hold weight.

The two sit like that for hours, quietly indulging in their own pieces of fiction. It's not as uncomfortable as Jin thought it would be.

____

A/N: If you liked this part, let me know! I've said this before, but everyone's love and anticipation for this series is just so positively overwhelming. You guys are the best!

Permanent Taglist: @skyys-universee @morelovefortn @seagulljk @shadowyjellyfishfest @m4gg13-g @wittyreader

Series Taglist [CLOSED]: @welcometomyworld13 @kalala22 @fxirytaetae @btsfluffsworld @belikejk @shycreationdreamland @danielle143 @singukieee @blackrockshooter780 @g-b-artist @i-have-no-life-charlie @sopemee @no-regrets-just-confusion @acciocriativity @ldysmfrst @amara-mars @caelumwrites @estrellaburnxd @borahaetelevision @on-1ce @fuckthinking @jaiele

#bts hybrid au #hybrid bts x reader #poly ot7 #ot7 x reader #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #hurt/comfort

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renardiererin · 8 months

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THE GREAT WAR a social media au starring rockstar!rintarou suna, and musician!reader

synopsis -> you used to know rintarou. you knew him back before the world did. you used to know him better than you knew yourself. but nothing perfect ever lasts, does it? after awhile he just stopped responding. you tried to block out every headline you saw featuring his name, and focus on your own music career rather than his own. but when one of his bandmates reaches out to you and asks you to open for their upcoming tour, you find yourself stuck traveling all around the world with the man whose inflicted pain inspired most of your first album.

warnings -> potentially some suggestive content (but no explicit smut), probably some flashback moments, probably alcohol content, swearing, etc.

tags -> smau, social media au, rintarou suna, rintarou suna smau, celebrity smau, rockstar suna, exes to ?, little bits of humor i hope, angst, band au

ongoing! [8/22/23] playlist

profiles

akaashi fanclub / dicks with instruments

table of contents / masterlist *titles may be subject to change along the way !

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🌙

act i - the act of acceptance 1. my knuckles were bruised like violets

2. i can't say hello to you and risk another goodbye

3. i know we cut all the ties but you never really listen

4. yes i got your letter, yes i'm doing better

5. seeing you tonight... it's a bad idea, right?

6. love is never logical

7. when facing the things we turn away from

8. i wanna get him back (i want sweet revenge; i want him again)

9. we had matching wounds

10. did you see me on tv?

11. put my name at the top of your list

12. i’ve gotten what i wanted, it’s just not what i imagined

13. none of it matters and none of it ends, you just feel like shit over and over again

14. stop checking your mailbox for confessions of love ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🌙

act ii - the act of love and loss 1. still all over me like a white stained dress i can't wear anymore

2. the small things that you do are what remind me why i fell for you

3. don't just sit in front of me and wait for me to talk

4. flashback: i was only 17 when she first made me feel like a man

5. i don't wanna face the music but i still wanna dance with you

6. i can see you saying: "meet me tonight"

7. you, oh you, it's always been you

8. i'm captivated by you baby like a firework show

9. imma make a move, if you know what i mean

10. jump then fall into you

11. your faithless love's the only hoax i believe in

12. you told me you love me, so why did you go away?

13. i lived in your chess game

14. when i'm nothing new

15. i hate that because of you i can't love you

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🌙 act iii - the act of isolation and irritability 1. i know that i should hate you

2. when did it end? all the enjoyment?

3. falling feels like flying til the bone crush

4. flashback: for awhile you were all mine

5. i hope you're not happy without me

6. i love you but i need another year alone

7. i didn't have it in myself to go with grace

8. flashback: when i'd fight, you used to tell me i was brave

9. come back to me like you could if you'd just say you're sorry

10. i try to ignore it everytime you phone... but i never come close

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🌙

act iv - the act of reconciliation 1. you used a fork once

2. you will love me until you resent me

3. i wish you knew that i'll never forget you as long as i live

4. i miss you too much to be mad anymore

5. can't turn back now i'm haunted

6. if you're out there if you're somewhere if you're moving on

7. you can hear it on the way home

8. this could either break my heart or bring it back to life

9. don't want no other shade of blue but you

10. until the poets run out of rhymes

11. i want to wear his initial on a chain round my neck

12. this love came back to me

13. what if i told you i'm a mastermind?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🌙

act v - the act of the epilogue 1. outside they're push and shoving / you're in the kitchen humming

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🌙

a/n: hii okay i haven't written an smau in literal years so im just hoping this doesn't suck and that you can enjoy it :) mwah i love each and every one of you who is reading this note & this smau rn <3 thank you all my loves !

taglist

@kiyoily @akumakitsune21 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @dani-shitting-around @alienvarmint @reverie-starlight @honeythebarbie @bootlegroach @tsukiran @xbl00dy-r0s3x @universal-s1ut @koushisbabie @breakmyheartlater @phoenix-eclipses @ris-krispie @coyloves @2baddies-1porsche @girlkissersco @ilovejujitsukaisen @dontmindtheevie

taglist is open <33 comment here to be added !

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thesirencult · 6 months

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PAC READING: YOUR DIVINE FEMININE'S AURA

Discussing your feminine's general aura and characteristics. Friendly for both men and girls/theys who like girls. You can also pick it to see how your aura is as a feminine ❤️

Book your reading by sending me a private message xoxo S.

Pile 1

7 of pentacles, 8 of pentacles, 10 of swords

Your DF has the aura of a sweet herbal witch. She lives in her little cabin in the woods and like a fairy she works on perfecting her craft. Greens and purples look great on her.

This is a slow and steady energy. This is someone who loves taking their time. She loves learning and implementing her skills. Making coffee becomes a daily ritual and same goes as washing the dishes.

Her attention to detail is immaculate and that can drive you crazy sometimes but you know that with all that good comes some bad. Very well presented, you can take her anywhere and all eyes will be on her. Very earthy, stable and focused on building a foundation for all things practical before she jumps onto commitment.

Her steady "working on myself" attitude stems from getting backstabbed one too many times. She knows that she has to build herself up and after that all her dreams will manifest. She is into self development and may love going through that tag on Tumblr. She may even be a blogger herself.

She is investing in herself and doesn't shy away from learning about accounting or law. Nothing will stand on her way to that cute fairy cottage *aggressive cute walk* 😉.

Pile 2

9 of pentacles, queen of swords, the magician

Whoever has this DF as a counterpart or has that aura, WOW. Miss Independent. A handful. We love seeing that *sprinkle, sprinkle* here. CEO. That's C-Suite energy!

This woman is someone powerful and dominant. Like a race horse you will always bet on because you KNOW, it will always come first 😉 (pun intended). She works very very hard for what she wants and similar to pile 1 she can be in accounting, finance and law. Good with numbers and her hands. I bet she has a dirty sense of humour.

From the first moment you see her you will know she is the real deal. Others blend in the background while she power walks in the room. Penetrating stare and red bottom high heels, her allure is different. She doesn't have to show dominance, others feel that she is the boss. Mami energy. Ferocious when someone comes for her loved ones. She could even be in law enforcement.

Red and brown. Symbolising high energy that's still grounded and serious. Do not cross her.

Pile 3

King Of Swords, Knight Of Wands, Ace Of Swords

Now, this one? A handful ! Try to tie her down. You just can't. A brat.

This person is very fluid. They don't care about terms and conditions. They are highly intelligent and her mind walks a thin line between spirituality and logic. The most unconventional, they will find a solution no one sees yet it's right in front of them. Highly intellectual and well versed in philosophy and math.

This reminds of a movie with James Franco where he played a start up founder who was into spirituality. A crazy genius. A party is a party and they will be there.

Partying in Ibiza? They've done that. Phuket for a Muay Thai Camp? That did that last year! Eiffel tower to try a croissant with pistachio filling? They just got back yesterday and guess what? They hate pistachios.

This person is the type to run a start up company focused on clean energy and when shit hits the fun they will call an astrologer and ask for recommendations. They respect everyone. They will listen to your mom and dad when they talk about their days and take mental notes of great ideas. They know great ideas come from the most unconventional places and fields.

Pile 4

Page Of Cups, Page Of Swords, The Fool (5 Of Swords + 8 Of Swords + 5 Of Pentacles flew out)

This can be my age difference pile. They will run you to the ground lol.

This is someone with lots of mental capacity. You ask them about World War II and they will tell you how Nazis and Churchill used astrology and why the war happened and after 5 hours you will be listening to them about Ancient Mesopotamia. "How did we get here?" You will think.

Well, it doesn't matter cause you love listening to their voice and their warm heartfelt laugh. They look innocent and pure and even if they try to intimidate you you will let them think they can but in reality they look like a cinnamon roll and they are a cinnamon roll. Their life was not the best and they have lots of trust issues. They may look innocent but their eyes hide a painful past. Like a kitten thrown out and left out in the cold they feel lost and unappreciated.

You listening to them means the world and you will be shocked at how appreciative they are and how loving with you. They are very romantic and they may have great expectations and daydreams about their love life.

I get that you might start off as friends and meet in a very random way on a daily run or while getting groceries or a tire changed. You will immediately fall in love with them and they will seem like they don't suspect a thing. Let me tell you, they know, they are just too scared to show their feelings and until you grab them and kiss em you won't know how much passion is brewing underneath this innocent and clever facade. They might turn into pile number 2 in a few years lol.

Ready for everything, you will always be a warm embrace and their home when they come back from exploration. You will love how they yawn while reading a book and how they stretch when they wake up showing revealing their tummy. They are cute to you, even if everyone else sees them differently, that's how you view them. They might be a black mysterious cat but you think of them as a tired little kitten waiting for a safe home that will accept them as they are.

#astrology #tarot reading #tarot #pick a card #pick a pile #pac reading #pick a photo #pick a picture #soulmate #future spouse

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explosionkatsu · 1 year

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“Age doesn’t matter” 10

Dad!Bakugo x F!Babysitter!Teacher!Reader

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

Days have passed and you're finally discharged from the hospital. You were happy of course, especially when you remembered what Katsuki offered you.

"What I'm trying to say. No one will take care of Kazui. I can't always rely on my parents. My friends are heroes as well. Since you mentioned you used to be a babysitter. I would like to hire you."

You looked at him surprised once again. Are you in heaven? Are sure you're still alive?

“M-me?” Y/n stutters placing a shaking hand on her chest.

“The fuck am I talking to.” Katsuki rolled his eyes. Are you really even a teacher? “I don't need to repeat myself. If you fucking reject it, it's fine.”

“N-no! I was just surprised!” Y/n immediately shut Katsuki. “I-i was just surprised, honestly.” Finally, Y/n smiled. “I didn't expect you to say that. It makes my heart melt. I’m happy.”

After that day, Katsuki dropped you off at your apartment. He’s been stopping by to visit you at the hospital after his shift which you don't mind. But you often think you were bothering him which he says you're not.

Now here you are getting ready to leave your apartment to babysit Kazui.

Y/n grabbed her keys from the counter and left, securing the door behind her. Better safe than sorry is what they say.

It's a good day for her. Of course, you were trying to ignore the new insecurities. You kept reminding yourself that the scars you got were a sign of your boldness.

Yes yes.

A soft smile appeared on your lips. Bravery isn't something you should be insecure about. You were even glad you protected Kazui. Not an ounce of regret you were feeling. So you took a step towards your destination only to realize Katsuki didn't give you their address.

Great.

Y/n mentally smack herself. How could she forget to ask for the address? So much for being confident.

Y/n grabs her phone from her bag deciding to call Katsuki. Boy, she was glad she had his number due to school purposes. While standing a few meters away from her apartment, she clicked the call button and placed her phone in her ear waiting.

It just so happens that it's Katsuki's day off.

Due to exhaustion, Katsuki overslept which we all know is pretty rare. So, when he realized this, he panicked and rapidly stumbled out of his bed reaching for his phone. But as soon as he saw what day it was. He relaxed while on the carpeted floor.

Katsuki still decided to get up though. Slowly, he got off the floor and stretched, snapping a few bones, and stepped out of his bedroom, not even bothering to pick up his thick shroud nor fix his bed.

“Kazui? Are you awake?” Katsuki shouted as he made his way to his son’s bedroom.

He quietly flares the door open only to see a sleeping Kazui, snuggling comfortably on his bed. The sight made Katsuki smile. He was glad Kazui was okay. His treasure. Even though sometimes Kazui can be a brat, he loves him more than he even loves himself. More than he loves his job. His barefoot quietly made contact with the floor as he walked closer to Kazui. Carefully, he bent down kissing Kazui's forehead making him squirm but went back to sleep.

After this, Katsuki left Kazui’s bedroom and made his way to his kitchen. Now that he’s fully awake, he needs breakfast. He was scratching his head as he strides down the stairs, yawning a bit. Once he reached the kitchen, he placed his phone on the countertop and reached for the refrigerator handle only to get interrupted by his phone ringing.

It’s too fucking early for a phone call, unless it’s his company finally realizing they needed his guidance on some work issue. Probably? Who would even call this early anyway. Groaning, he reached for his phone and took a closer look to check who was the caller. Almost instantly, he picked it up.

“Good morning, Bakugo-san.”

God. Hearing your voice early in the morning sends a shiver down his spines. Not that kind of shiver you perverts.

“The hell I said about formalities, hah?” Katsuki said ignoring that his voice is still raspy.

“O-oh! I’m sorry. I forgot, haha.”

Fuck, was he in heaven right now? Unconsciously, Katsuki lips turned into a small smile. “The hell do you want this early.”

“W-well.” Why the hell are you even stuttering? Hell you can even defeat Izuku stuttering, “I kinda forgot to ask for your address..”

Oh yeah, now that you mentioned it, you’ll babysit Kazui today. “I’ll message it to you.” Katsuki simply said.

“Thank you, Bakugo!”

He can hear the happiness in your voice. Weird.

“Can’t pick you up. No one will watch over Kazui.” Katsuki mumbled finally reaching for the refrigerator handle and pulling it open to check the contents inside.

“You don’t have to! I can get there on my own!”

“I’ll be waiting then.”

“See you!”

When the call ended, Katsuki was staring blanky in the fridge. Why the fuck he said he’ll be waiting? He groaned out loud this time. Why the hell is he sounding desperate? Is he desperate? Oh, hell nah.

Eijiro was glad he was off duty as well. That means he can visit Kazui and spend time with him. But his main priority right now is to find the location an intel told him.

Location where Katsuki’s ex-wife is.

Just thinking about this made his blood boil. Of course, he’ll never hurt a woman. It wouldn’t be very manly of him. But this one made him want to be unmanly.

Fists inside his pocket, he reached the said location. Eijiro was standing in front of a huge house, face staring blankly at it.

It’s now or never.

Eijiro gradually made his way to the front door. He took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. Few seconds only passed when the door opened. His eyes hardened when he laid his eyes on her.

“I’ll join you in a minute babe!” She was giggling. But stopped when she saw who it was.

“K-kirishima.”

Eijiro didn’t say anything. He was staring at her intently.

“H-how did you-

“I came here to give you this.” His voice was low, so very not like his usual tone handing her a bunch of documents.

“What’s this?” she asked curiously as she raised a shaking hand and reached for the documents from his grasp.

“Discover it yourself.” Eijiro glared.

Gulping. She shakingly flipped the folder open in her hands and read its content.

A divorce paper with Katsuki’s name in it but without his signature, whilst the next paper was a warrant of arrest for abandoning Katsuki and Kazui.

“Ms. *, you are under arrest for abandoning your child.”

A sudden sound of a police automobile was heard making her panic.

“N-no.” She plead. “No! Please!!”

“The court will deal with you.” Eijiro left the scene as soon as the police arrived and dealt with her.

It was wrong that Katsuki didn’t know about this, but he’ll do anything for his buddy and his nephew.

“You’re free, Katsuki.” Eijiro mumled as he disappeared from the scene.

Meanwhile, while cooking breakfast, Katsuki suddenly felt a huge weight disappear from his chest.

#bnha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x you

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kosmicdream · 2 months

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Please don’t think of me as a male artist.

..is what i used to feel, for many years, even when I finally came out as trans. In a way, its one of the factors that kept me from pursuing HRT (which im so glad i finally did.) After only one year, my feeling on this hasn’t evaporated completely but i suppose I kind of don’t care anymore about how I am interpreted, as a person/artist, ect.. It isn’t something i can be in control of anyway, which upsets me less than it used to.

Sometimes in the past, the way i write characters has often been analyzed by the gender I am, or appear to be - that my male characters were written like how a woman writes men (too emotional/vulnerable, ect) , or how my female characters are written thoughtlessly- like how a man would. (too horny, stupid, violent, ect.) Its not a new way to analyze a story but I can’t say that it doesn’t annoy me. It could still be true that my characters/writing could fall into sexist/problematic archetypes, but gendering my work based on the way my characters act always reminds me of the “you draw like a girl/boy” comments, which used to be more frequent when i was a teen.. But the idea that boys = angular, good at cars! Or something and girls are, i dunno, gonna draw sexy anime men or something. Even as a teenager, i hated this idea that my art was “girl art.” Truthfully, i always viewed my art and myself as an artist as genderfluid, maybe even a type of drag performance, where i can explore any gender and not be limited by my body, it was my escape from that. Which naturally, it became my place to explore gender presentation and eventually helped me “crack my egg” of realizing i was a trans man.

I do think its important to reflect or regard my work as the art made by a trans man, or transmasculine person. I feel more and more just like “just a dude” these days. I am also a gay man. I think those things are important to my work. I think that the analysis of my work in regards to my identity as a person is important to reflect on. I also think the steps I took to get there were important, that transformation and my continued exploration of my older selves and more “label-less” self in the art i make. That’s a private space for me, that I happen to share with the world too. I feel the audience is part of my work too, I welcome it even. I have become part of the audience too and I look at my work as if I’m also a stranger. The older my work gets, the more of it I can study, the more I can see plainly how I got here and also it feels so confusing how it did. I try to study my art to help me find where I want to go to next, a map to guide me.

In some ways, I feel more lost than I did before, where all my instinct was pushing me was just to grow and explore as much as possible. Now, I don’t have that same type of energy that I used to. Its not a bad thing, its just different. There’s a sense of duty and commitment and a sense of dread of the time it takes to do what I feel compelled to do on this step of my journey. I am trying to focus more on the things I used to think I was incapable of before and I’m trying to remember the things I used to think were so effortless. I can tell my art is sharper but it feels almost like a mimicry of my older selves - at least when I revisit old work to continue its journey past where its been frozen in time. Comics take a long time, after all, it's normal that after a few years - a story might be yours, but it feels like it belongs to the past of you too, maybe more than it does in the present. I like the commitment I have to my comics though, its not a burden to me. The feeling is strange anyway.

I tend to think that 1-3 years of a project being made, those are the honeymoon years of the relationship. But you hit a wall in 4-5 years and sometimes you’re in denial about it, you try to keep the dreams and feeling alive as you drag it forward, and sometimes the project really reaches its end around 8-10 years and it becomes a type of empty promise to return to it. Not that this is true for every artist, every project, ect. But I think its a natural lifespan for comics that I’ve observed, and it's because it is uncomfortable to face morality and the morality of our own art. Art is this escape, and when it becomes a job - or an uncomfortable mirror into these things about ourselves, about our failures and promises we couldn’t manage to make, the pressures of the audience, the boredom of the task if you have already told yourself the story a thousand times and you have no longer a desire to continue it, ect - its a normal and natural feeling to want to drop it off a cliff. Blow it up, start over fresh - I know the feeling! Its happened many times. But its kind of temporary? Then, it cycles back to nostalgia - and the desire to create and recreate and reform the past to something tangible again.. uh

Sorry, sorry.. I am getting far from the point I started with. Not that any of this makes too much sense, I feel like writing it anyway. It bothers me that the fantasy of art to me, is the ability to dissolve yourself and stop existing, you are the creator creating. You don’t need to be confined by, really anything. It is in “your control” now, and you surrender your own control by falling into the art and letting it “lead you” places. This is a very seductive process and while it might temporarily be fulfilling (even when done for a lifetime) cannot really.. What.. completely fill the void of whatever you’re chasing down there? Its nice though. At least, when I think about when i first started drawing comics, it was to draw Vash the Stampede (from the original 98 anime series, i hate the new one. We’re not talking about there here) coming out of my television after a thunderstorm and he had to just live in my house now. It was the closest thing I could do to actually manifesting that as reality, of making this amazing anime husband come to life to just like live with me now and be my boyfriend. In a lot of ways I don’t see my pursuit of writing ocs, specifically male ones, really much different from this same desire of like “i can just make my perfect boyfriend!” born out of the loneliness I felt in my heart, and the fear that there is no boyfriend out there for me so i need to frankenstein my own - and this boyfriend will be poifect in every way. Or like, crafting the perfect “relationship” in replace the lack of one, or just the fantasy of watching very abstract extremes come to life in various puppets i crafted, beating the shit out of each other for entertainment. But to subject all these.. Abstract Internal conflicts as simply like a “boy author thing” or “girl author thing” is like.. Tiring. Are we really not past that? (Of course not.)

Like there’s some hidden truth to the way someone might write/draw, the way that “makes sense” in retrospect once the identity of the author is analyzed and discovered.. How can you make sense of the self, let alone the other .. and In a way that’s permanent? And gendered? Does art now have an inherent sex characteristic? But I cannot deny that I do want my art to look and feel like part of who I am, what I have chosen to sexually identify as - a transgender, a man, a faggot. I DO identify as a sexual deviant, but that is hilarious because I have been single for so long at this point I can’t even remember in a tangible way what that felt like and I question if I ever felt it or experienced it “for realsies” because of the experiences I have had or havent didn’t feel very fulfilling or romantic, despite that being something I desire so much - and so I feel like a failure. And to create art just based on the fantasy of desire rather than the lived reality, can it even really display what that would actually be like. So its embarrassing, right?

I have worked on my art a lot and I have often thought, or come to the conclusion (true or not) that my singleness is the result of my pursuit and dedication to art - which is the pursuit of self isolation and protection from harm. From influence, from acknowledging that life can exist and someday end. And when you work on projects for years and years, the pride/shame dichotomy only gets more.. Weird. It gets weird, guys! It always was weird, but.. I just think about so many my heroes, my art inspirations, working decades on their art.. I follow in their footsteps too and it feels scarier and lonelier than I expected it to be. And the more and more I realized that as a reality, as my 20s faded away, the more I kept walking. I wasn’t gonna stop now, even if I could, I don’t want to and its not hard to do other things too. I have a slower pace than I used to (thank god) and gets slower but I’m still moving.

I don’t post or write my little art journals as much as I used to. Mostly cause I don’t really have anything good to say and it kinda feels embarrassing to post them too LOL. But.. whatever!! Its been a weird four months of me being off work and I’m about to go back to being a normal working person again.. But its like, its weird to tell people about your art when they ask about what you do. Its like “oh yeah, i draw webcomics” and they wont get it, you’ll say - “yeah its 8,000 pages long” and they’ll say, “thats a lot!” and it is. They’re very nice about it, but there’s a lack of satisfaction there with what that means. I don’t expect it, that’d be dumb as hell. Its nice to take a break from it too, to discover other sides of myself I never let shine because i stayed indoors for a decade, but its a weird feeling too. Like, what will it mean in the end? I don’t really know.

I don’t think I need “success” to feel like this was worth it, its not like a trophy is gonna come in the mail for the good workTM I’ve done - there is no closure to the work I make even when a story finishes. I have to keep going regardless of that, and its strange to know it won’t ever feel done. But I am so thirsty for that temporary itch to be scratched, it keeps me working every day for the “maybe” of what that might feel like. Kinda silly, really. Is it my “male” pride that demands recognition? Would respect be given more freely if I had “remained” to be perceived as a woman, for subverting the expectations for what a woman can/can’t write? (lol) Is my value as a person determined by that sort of thing in my art? I don’t think of my pride as gendered, but I know its there and I know because of who I say I am, my pride will be gendered by others. I think when I was a woman, that pissed me off more than now because.. Well.. I wasn’t even living as the way i wanted to. I still don’t really live as the way I want to, the way I want to be perceived, but even being on HRT for a little more than 1 year, without much else lifestyle changes, I feel a little more at peace not mattering what others will take away from me or what i write about. I have a lot of my own expectations for myself and what i write about and that concerns me far more.

I don’t really know how else to end this, I’m going to eat chocolate now. Oh, to answer your question (?) if you might have this one: can I think of you as a male artist, kosmic? sure. I am one after all.

#whoops! long post #its very rambly sorry #webcomics

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onpurposeilovehimonpurpose · 3 months

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An Incomplete List: Things I Love About HRH Prince Henry & FSOTUS Alex Claremont-Diaz

Happy February 1st, ya'll. I've decided to start posting an image that represents (in feeling or with direct imagery) Alex's list about Henry. While I can't do too much with gifs because my computer won't run the programs I need it to and I need to save up for one that does. I'm trying this format because I miss posting about RW&RB each day, and giving my thoughts. I'm going to post one each day in February, (the month of love) and I will use the other nine days to post my version of Henry's incomplete list for Alex.

I encourage everyone who may come across this post to do the same and tag it with (#An Incomplete List) and whatever other tags of course that you think will work, and reblog this too. It'll be fun spreading the love as the days go on and seeing what everyone can come up with for Alex's days too. Pictures, fanart, video clips, even if all you do is talk about the quote, it'll be fun to click the tag on Tumblr and see what others have contributed. Just a reminder of the list:

AN INCOMPLETE LIST: THINGS I LOVE ABOUT HRH PRINCE HENRY 1. The sound of your laugh when I piss you off. 2. The way you smell underneath your fancy cologne, like clean linens but somehow also fresh grass (what kind of magic is this?) 3. That thing you do where you stick out your chin to try to look tough. 4. How your hands look when you play piano. 5. All the things I understand about myself now because of you. 6. How you think Return of the Jedi is the best Star Wars (wrong) because deep down you're a gigantic, sappy, embarrassing romantic who just wants the happily ever after. 7. Your ability to recite Keats. 8. Your ability to recite Bernadette's "Don't let it drag you down" monologue from Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. 9. How hard you try. 10. How hard you've always tried. 11. How determined you are to keep trying. 12. That when your shoulders cover mine, nothing else in the entire stupid world matters. 13. The goddamn issue of Le Monde you brought back to London with you and kept and have on your nightstand (yes, I saw it). 14. The way you look when you first wake up. 15. Your shoulder-to-waist ratio. 16. Your huge, generous, ridiculous, indestructible heart. 17. Your equally huge dick. 18. The face you just made when you read that last one. 19. The way you look when you first wake up (I know I already said this, but I really, really love it). 20. The fact that you loved me all along.”

#An Incomplete List #RWRB #RWRB Movie #Red White and Royal Blue #RWRB Book #RW&RB FirstPrince #Alex X Henry #Alex Claremont-Diaz #Alexander Claremont-Diaz #Henry Fox #HRH Prince Henry #HRH Prince Henry George Edward James Hanover-Stuart Fox #Henry Fox Mountchristen Windsor #Nicholas Galitzine #Taylor Zakhar Perez #HRH Prince Henry of Wales

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oubliette-odette · 7 months

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The Reluctance of Love, Pt. 2

I've been having a little too much fun writing this story. I will admit, not a lot happens in this chapter - but I promise the next chapter will be good. Just a reminder that this a (sort of) slow burn.

Orc Male x Half-Elf Male, Fated Mates, Forbidden Love, Slow Burn Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 Word Count: 2750 (average 20 min read) Content Warnings: mention of mating, nothing happens....yet ;) All orcish is from orcishdictionary.com, created by Matt Vancil. Not beta-read. Criticism is welcome, but be sure to distinguish criticism from hate.

I hated myself for leaving Altan there. But I knew that I would hate myself more if I did anything to him.

I remember when I was a child I had always been afraid of mating. It felt like without any choice from either person - you were expected to be intimate with them. I never liked that my body would do something to me that I couldn't control. My broodmothers always told me it was the gift of Gruumsh that assured the vitality and strength of the orc races. It was something that would be mutually felt between partners. I still didn't like it, and I still was afraid of my own body for much of my childhood.

I left home for many reasons: the fact that I was a constant reminder of my father's and broodmothers' shame. The fact that there was no one left my age unmated. But also because I knew that if I left, I would reduce the chance of finding a mate. Lordhovid only would happen with a female orc. The world beyond would reduce my chances of every having to experience it, should it ever happen to me.

I sometimes wondered if I never experienced the urge to mate because I simply didn't want it. But Gruumsh be damned, I found myself in a greater predicament than even experiencing lordhovid. My greatest fear turned out to be worse than I could have imagined.

My relationship with my home and my culture was complicated. I desired to be seen as valuable and needed by my family, but I only brought shame as long as I was unable to give them children. I left for not only my own sake, but for the sake of my family. But I still carried with me a pride of my people and a want to do what was right and I carried a hope that maybe someday I could earn their love back.

My life-partner, my raebukam, the one my body began to burn for was someone I couldn't possibly be with. If I were to return with Altan to my homeland - radiant Altan who remained golden in my memories - I would be dishonored. To bring a partner who could neither bear children or fight for the tribe would spell my damnation.

Altan...I wished I had never learned his name. Altan. Altan. His name was seared into me, branded in my memories. I wished I could have met him under different circumstances. I wished I could love him and not hurt him. I wished I could have known that his feelings for me would be returned without lordhovid influencing him.

I stayed in my tiny room above the forge for the next two days. Feverish and overheated, I struggled through the days. I hadn't been able to buy enough food and I knew eventually I'd have to leave. But I insisted I couldn't leave. I would live with this if I must. I wouldn't give in to this lust. It wasn't mine. I could control it.

On the the third day, however, I heard a pounding at my door.

I was curled on the mattress on the floor that served as my bed - I could never find a bed big enough for my size - and caught in a feverish daze, trying to not think about Altan.

"Drunrag?!" Someone shouted from the other side of the door.

My heart leapt up to my throat. I knew that voice. It was like music.

Altan.

I shrank into the corner of my room, panic formed in the pit of my stomach. "No," I rasped. "You can't be here." The last two days had been near hell - I didn't know if I could be strong enough to stop myself now.

"Drunrag...please open the door." His own voice sounded exhausted. Guilt and shame flooded through me. He had been experiencing his own symptoms of lordhovid, and I had left him to suffer them alone. I selfishly had only considered myself.

Damn you, Drunrag.

"I'm not above considering breaking this door down." He said. "It's taken me these last two days to find you, and it's been absolute hell. I'm not leaving until we have a chance to talk."

"You should if you wish to be safe." I yelled back. My voice cracked from disuse and panic. "I don't want this."

"Look, I'm still not entirely sure of all that's happening to us. But I trust you not to hurt me. Can we please just talk and see what solution we can come to?"

I struggled to my feet, and stumbled to the door. I hesitated, my hand at the lock. "I'm...are you certain?"

"Just. Open the damn door, please."

I hadn't considered that Altan could posses such fire in him.

Admittedly, I knew nothing about him. I fled before I could know him. I only understood one thing: that my body wanted him.

I slid the lock back and cracked the door open. My eyes alighted upon seeing those wide, golden eyes. Altan. Gods, he really was glowing. I let out a breath that I must have been holding since I left him. The pulling in my chest lessened, now that it felt the closeness of my raebukam. However, it was painful to be so close and be denied what my body screamed for. I felt the heat inside me begin to stir again.

"Ummm," He looked up and down through the crack, a weary yet sardonic smile crossing his face. "Do you expect me to converse through this crack? I think not. Gods, where is your sense of hospitality?" He pushed against the door, and I - too stunned to do anything really - was like a leaf, easily knocked back by the small, slender man before me. I crashed against my wall and watched him step into the room. My mouth was agape as I watched him barge in.

In that moment, I studied him, really took a good look at him. He didn't seem tall for a humanoid, but his head looked like it only reached my pecs. He dressed a bit differently than I typically saw in the streets. More loose, airy clothes that exposed his golden brown skin. His coppery curls were long, but appeared mussed and unkempt, like he hadn't been taking care of himself for quite a few days.

I watched as he studied my home. It was a simply layout, a kitchen and a bedroom. The outhouse was outside. His lips were open just slightly as he took in everything. He turned suddenly to gaze into my bedroom. As he turned, the smell of sunny wheat fields overwhelmed my senses. I shuddered and closed my eyes, ignoring the pulsating inside me that urged me to grab him and pull him towards me. Everything about him was tantalizing.

He sighed. "I should have expected this. There's really not much here." He peered into the room where my mattress lay and he frowned, "If you expect me to sleep with you there, I absolutely refuse." He turned to look at me. "You may be an orc, but that doesn't mean I will resort to your way of making love. I expect our first time to be better than...this." He gestured to the general space, which I wondered if I should find offensive, but my mind quickly slipped beyond that thought to the fact that I heard him discuss potentially sleeping together...

There couldn't possibly be a chance...not in any of the nine hells. Gods tell me he's joking.

"What did you say?" I said. "You're not actually considering..."

He stepped towards me, his voice was sharp and direct. "It's not like we have another solution, right? I've had two days to ponder this. It seems you and I are deemed a worthy pairing according to your mating instinct. And strangely, my own body seems to be confirming those same feelings. If you and I are to function at all in our lives - we have to do as our bodies tell us. We must mate. Correct?"

I couldn't look at him. It was too embarrassing. I could feel my face burning with shame, but also with anger. How could he possible suggest this when I didn't want this.

"I'll take that as a yes." He said, his voice softened.

I looked up to see him. He was standing in my home. My tiny, cramped little space with only a kitchen and a bedroom. He looked perfectly normal in it. But I could see the dark circles under his eyes, the way his hair looked like it hadn't been washed or combed since I last saw him. His own breathing was heavy, like mine. His stance looked as if he were carrying an intense weight. A weight that we could remove....if I could just give in to lordhovid.

But I couldn't. I shook my head. "No, I'm not mating with you."

"What exactly is holding you back from this?" He asked. "I apologize if this may come across ignorant, I've only met a handful of orcs in my lifetime, all of them much older than me, but I was raised to believe that orcs found great pleasure in their mating customs. Help me to understand...is it that you find me unlikable?"

I grunted. Unlikeable? No, Altan seemed friendly enough, savvy enough and possessed a lot of spirit. It wasn't something I found in most people I encountered. He seemed honest too.

I shook my head. "No."

He took a step towards me, to which I took a panicked step back.

"Do I repulse you?"

I shook my head again and grunted. I found that he did the exact opposite, I couldn't focus because my eyes would wander to all of his various features. His large, golden eyes. His full lips that always seemed quirked into a smile. His exposed chest, bare and smooth. His ear poking through those soft-looking curls. No, I could not say I found him remotely repulsive.

"Are you afraid of me?" He asked.

That, I hesitated. Yes I was afraid. Of him. Of me. But mostly of what was keeping us together: lordhovid. I was scared what it would do to me, do to Altan and of how its influence brought me here.

He cocked his head. "You're afraid of me." He said it that time as a statement, not a question.

I shook my head, "I am afraid of what you are."

"A half-elf?" He laughed. "We're not known for being terrifying."

I couldn't laugh, not at that moment. I looked at him with a dark expression. "I'm afraid of you as my life-partner. I didn't want this, nor did you ask for this."

His laughter faded and his expression softened. "You really didn't choose to do this to me, did you? You didn't choose me?"

I shook my head. "lordhovid is meant to draw together those who will bear the strongest children for the orc tribe."

"Huh...curious." He said, his voice was light, curious more than anything. I wondered how none of this seemed to be affecting him as much as it affected me. He thought for a moment. "You mentioned that you were broken."

Krandad. Broken. I had grown accustomed to be called that by my broodmothers when I remained the last one unmated from my litter.

I shifted where i stood. To speak on the most intimate, sacred part of my culture to someone who was being so kind and patient to me. Someone I should trust. I somehow felt out of place, like a child. "I am unmated. It is shameful for an orc to be unmated. At first I thought it was something wrong with me. But I believe it because it's my choice."

He studied me. I didn't like his eyes on me for so long. I could feel the burning of his stare and it made my own heated skin surge with longing and want. "You don't want to mate at all, is that what you mean?"

I gave a small nod.

"Then why are we here now?" He asked.

I shook my head, "I don't know. But you were not given a choice. Nor was I. You are a stranger...and I have damned your fate to be with me." I bowed my head, looking away from him somehow made everything in my body feel so much worse. "You have my deepest apologies."

He didn't answer, didn't speak. I worried I had upset him somehow. I glanced up, and saw him staring back at me. His gaze was like the sun on my face, warming my body through every part.

"You are an honorable man, Drunrag." He said, gently. "I see that your sense of honor and your moral standing are greater than even most men. I understand that...this," He gestured between myself and him "Isn't something you want." He closed his eyes for a moment, then laughed. "You're a more complicated person than I anticipated." His eyes were like small lines when he laughed. I liked his laugh.

"I'm sorry." I said, my voice low. I didn't mean to be complicated.

"Let me make a proposition for you, then, Drunrag." He stood tall, as tall as he could against me, it was amusing to see him puff his chest and stretch his shoulders back.

"I'm listening." I said.

"You and I will not mate." He said, he smile awkwardly. "We'll see if we can manage our lives with this symptom. I'll treat it like a cold. Just a really hot, heavy, feverish cold. Who knows, maybe it eventually goes away. Or, you could see if there's some kind of potion? Spell? A Sorcerer, perhaps, that could remove it for you. And if we find that it's too much. Well, I know where you live. Let's say we reconvene in a month and see if we need to revisit option number one."

He smiled warmly at me, and it made my insides twist. Why was he being so understanding of my situation?

"You're being too kind." I said.

He shrugged, "What else can I do? I won't force myself on you, I would hate myself for that, handsome as you are."

Handsome? He must have been trying to be polite. Nothing more. Except that I didn't know how to answer him, and I felt the silence between us build uncomfortably.

"Well," He said with a forced smile. "I suppose there's nothing more to do, right?"

I hesitated before I nodded to him. "Right?"

He looked around the space once more, and then back up to me. "I would like to think maybe we could be friends...once all of this is over?"

His smile was more genuine as he cast his attention my way. He really did have a glow to him, an aura of warmth that made him easy to like. I wondered then if maybe it would be so bad sleep with him...just once. What would it feel like to hold him? I looked down a bit and caught the slight curve of his waist. I imagined my arms...

I clenched my eyes shut, closing the thought before my body reached a new temperature.

"Thank you, Altan, for your understanding." I said, gaining my composure. "In a month's time."

His smile faltered for just a moment, a brief look of wanting and disappointment, before he nodded his head and made his way to the door. "In a month's time."

The door shut behind him and I felt his presence on the other side of it. I pondered our last interaction together. Why did he seem so disappointed?

It was frustrating to feel that tug and pull inside me that tried to pull me back to him. I shoved the urge away and locked the door after I felt some distance between us. Would I always know approximately where he was? Would I ever sense his emotions or if he was in danger?

I ran my hands through my hair, several times, to try to distract myself from the heat and pressure inside me. I was stronger than my bodily urges. I was stronger than the pull that kept me near Altan. I was stronger than all of that. I repeated the words as I looked around my now empty apartment.

Was this really to be my life from now on?

#monster boyfriend #orc boyfriend #orc x half elf #dnd inspired #set in faerun #monster lover #monster romance #orc #orc romance #monster fucker #monster fuqqer #slow burn #romance #my fic #writing #gay romance #mm romance

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mxanigel · 15 days

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15 lines of dialogue

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

Thank you for the tag, @arendaes! It was difficult to stop at 15 lines, haha.

1) “Hurry up with the details before Hange attempts something we’ll all regret.” 2) “I don’t understand grief. Why it lingers. Why it rears its ugly head whenever it pleases. Rena died five years ago. Why does… why can I still ache this much?” 3) “Don’t sell yourself short. A terrible person wouldn’t offer to carry me through this forest.” 4) “Don’t you dare pull a Levi on me.” 5) “I’m still alive. I feel like I shouldn’t be. But as long as I am alive, I don’t want every moment to be dark. And if I can provide some light, some joy, even if it’s just a smile, I feel like my time with Rena mattered.” 6) “My home is with the two of you, after all.” 7) “She just likes to remind me what a fuck-up I am at every opportunity.” 8) “Pull me back up. I’m giving this another try.” 9) “Saving you is still a work in progress.” 10) “I need you to take the lead here. I trust you.” 11) “I-I’ll try to commit it to memory so I can draw you a picture.” 12) “I don’t want to take a life. When I do, I’ll live with that weight until I join them. But I’ll do everything in my power to help find a better path forward for what remains of humanity. And I’ve accepted that path sometimes requires fighting to the death.” 13) “I don’t hate you. I’m trying not to hate anyone. Including myself. Hate just makes everything worse. But hatred is hard, so hard to avoid.” 14) “I don’t envy the choice you had to make. Right or wrong, you’re the one who must now live with it. Like I do with the choice I made just now.” 15) “Th-There’s that too, but love isn’t about fucking. At least, it isn’t for me. That part’s… like a perk? When you’re in love. I, ah, like being close to the person I love. Physically. But that closeness can be the touch of a hand. Or it can be more. But it doesn’t always have to be. For me, anyway.”

No-pressure tagging @ruthvelyan @poetikat @captastra @saraptor @druckkugelschreiber

@marythegizka @spindleweedss @korblez @nightingalesighs

@dr-paine @milesmentis @gardensystemtv and anyone else who'd like to play!

#tag games #OC: Shion Miller #fic: cut to the feeling #aot fanfic #I'm just a puddle of feels going through this fic again <3 thank you for the excuse to do so~#oi tumblr what's up with your tags not sticking (I apologize if you get multiple notifications...)

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kingdoms-and-empires · 18 days

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Hey, wanted to say I am in love with your work. Really fantastic! May I ask: Do you have any pieces of advice for inspiring CoG writers or Interactive Fiction writers? Thank you and can't wait for more.

Im absolutely welcome these types of asks as they help remind me of what ive learned myself. Im going to try and say what i think every aspiring writer should hear to help them start out. Here we go: 1) Ensure you know what how much youre writing from the very beginning and plan accordingly. If it is a smaller story, do not be super ambitious, use it as a starter game to learn the basics of choicescript and learn the social media aspect of producing a title. If it is a large story, say over 800k words long, then you NEED to have an outline for each arc to help you know A to B for the story beats. Make outlines upon outlines and you will be doing yourself a favor. ESPECIALLY when coding. 2) THIS ISNT LIKE WRITING TRADITIONAL NOVELS. Know that Interactive Fiction is frustrating to write. You can write 3k words for a choice group, and players will only see 500 words or less worth of content for that choice group. Do not feel disheartened, for it is what it is. Just know youre doing a good job providing content and playable interaction with choices! Just be aware and mindful of not injecting bad or useless content in these choices! Have it matter in some way, either to represent/flesh out the world, characters, who the MC is, consequences, relationship changes, and foreshadowing.

3) Do not get too caught up with reader interaction. Your main job is to write write write. Create a hard limit for how many asks you answer, how much time you spend interacting with readers, and know what type of questions you should answer. Simply put: Be strategic! There may be a great question, but it could be too spoilery or it could take too much of your time to answer. 4) I learned this the hard way. Do not release information about the ROs until you actually reach the part in the story we meet them. If i can go back in time, i wouldnt have announced mine so soon haha. Youre gonna be eager to share your work and talk about it, but youll only be shooting yourself in the foot with people who only seek romance from your game! Also, dont overshare about em. You could retcon something and a reader may get upset with the change. Keep it simple! 5) Set low goals. Do not overpromise. You will feel guilty for failing and it may/will affect you mentally and your willingness to write. 6) You are not perfect, and that's okay!!! I struggle with this (and honestly everything ive listed here), but reminding yourself that its okay to not be perfect will help. You're human. It's hard to remember, and take it seriously, but you have to try. 7) Choice of Games (and more specifically Hosted Games) offer amateur writers a chance to share their work with others. Though games are becoming more and more expansive and huge, don't feel like you HAVE to do the same. A Mage Reborn is widely considered to be one of the best titles to have come out in recent years, and is listed at having 160k words! Small package (160k is by no means small in any capacity, dont get it twisted) big impact! 8) Know what type of game and title youre writing. If your project is focused on romance, dont spend more than necessary on worldbuilding, action, or thematically unrelated things. Stick to what the focus is, and your strength! 9) Ask for help. Seriously. You are combining coding and writing, so there's bound to be errors and things you wont understand. The CoG forums and Twine communities are always ready to help. Reach out to the communities or other authors for help. Just remember that some may be too busy to really help, so don't feel disheartened if one doesnt have the time. There are others, and you usually only need one to say yes to help figure out what youre struggling with or why you keep getting that error message. 10) Understand that you are giving a piece of your soul out there. It sounds corny as hell, but it's the simple truth. There is literal risk involved as a creator, no matter if you write, develop, draw, sing, perform, etc. There's obviously the risk of spending too much time on a hobby or dream for too little gain, but what im referring to is the all too common story of a creative putting their heart and soul into something important to them, and receiving no attention or being told it sucks. It will damage you, and perhaps even break you. Because again, you may have given it your all. So please take care of your mental health. It's okay to retreat and stop for a while. That doesnt make you a failure. Most of us creatives do this because we love the subject, and want to share what we can with others that love the industry, hobby, or topic theyre in. Remember that love, and remember what made you fall in love enough to put yourself out there. Remember you started for the art and craft.

#kingdomsandempires #interactive fiction #authors of tumblr

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valentinedaughtler · 5 months

Text

Tainted Opal (Part 9)

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

T/Ws: violence, romantic feelings, blood, mild spice scenes sometimes, fem!reader and she/her pronouns, sexual abuse/trauma (not explicit)

Synopsis: You truely recall the time you and Kaz crossed paths as young teenagers. How you fled from your pirate ship into the dark streets of Ketterdam, only to find a scoundrel to scar.

REQUESTS: OPEN✅

____________________________________________

9 - His Eyes of Hatred

"We met before, haven't we?" I try to keep my voice calm, but the tone was desperate; a consuming curiosity brewing in the cauldron of my mind. It began to bubble over as the existence of silence grew. The sliver of sunlight left in the day cast a long shadow across Kaz, exaggerating the sharp parts of his face; the dark lines left from a life in the Barrel. It is a constant reminder of who he is and what he will always be. The Bastard of The Barrel.

"Life isn't fate driven, Y/n," Kaz finally mutters while tapping the metallic crow head of his cane with a long, gloved finger. My eyebrows crease in annoyance, I'm not going to get a direct answer out of him. I sigh softly and lean against a barren tree. The sharp bark still pierces my skin through the thick jacket wrapped around me; Kaz's jacket. A blanket of heavy silence draped over us as the moon became the only source of light. I close my eyes and attempt to sift through the old, painful memories from my arrival into Ketterdam.

✶ ♧ ✶

The thick smoke of the endless line of boats had filled my lungs. I surepressed coughs that tried to escape my cracked lips. The smoke and fog masked my clumsy escape off of the wooden ship; off of home. I looked back for longer than I should have, soaking in the remnants of my childhood.

I trudged past bellowing merchants at makeshift stands filled with stealable goods and promising services. The voices of the bustling streets meshed together into a white noise more crackly than the sea I was used to, and diverse smells wafted through the air; food, dirt, death.

My stomach growled like a starved beast, my muscles felt strained and tight. My hungry gaze had landed on a man selling fresh fruits and breads; a strange assortment, but an appetizing one. He was younger, but old enough to have to avoid taxes illegally. His dark skin and curly hair contrasted pleasantly with his orange button up. He had been calling out to possible customers; the walking wallets that roamed the streets. I shifted my demeanor and softened my expression; an attempt to look sweet and desperate. Do what your mother taught you, I had told myself. I took long, elegant strides toward the stand, clasping my hands together as he looked at me. A glint of intrigue sparkled in his deep, dark eyes as he rested his elbows on the wooden counter. It was covered in apples and grapes, as well as warm baked goods.

I greeted him with an innocent smile as he spoke to me, "Ah, what can I do for ya' miss? Maybe a pear, a biscuit... a date?" He had winked and flashed me a dimpled smile. I giggled softly and batted my eyelashes. It felt so embarrassing— so degrading at the time.

"Well, maybe a loaf of bread and an apple?" I requested with my honeydew voice, which poured into his ears with a pleasurable vibration. He nodded with another wink and placed both into a cloth bag. I searched in my pockets, calm at first, but then frantic, a false panic spreading across my face. "My wallet! Oh no, I think someone stole my wallet," my lip quivered as I looked at the shop man with desperation. His expression was unfazed, he even huffed with a deep chuckle.

"You're not from here, are ya', little miss?" He rested his soft-edged face in his hands, amused with how naive I seemed. I had blinked a few times, cocking my head in confusion. He sighed as tears began to pool in my eyes, wiping them away with a calloused finger. "I'll give em' to ya' for free, but next time you come around, take me out for a nice meal," he smirked and extended his hand towards me. I accepted the bag of finessed foods from his outstretched palm, thanking him excessively.

I had whisked my way through the tight crowds until the outdoor markets became scarce. The streets were darker now, oiled lamp light more haphazard the further I walked. The way people took up space was different here. Before, in the markets, pedestrians had grand attires, with even grander ambitions. The cramped space was borrowed by anyone who took it, and the attempt was abundant.

But here, it contrasted immaculately. Those who roamed visibly tried to take up as little space as possible; small slivers of rotting life in the decaying world around them. Most people hadn't wandered openly, instead choosing to slip through the cracks of the city.

These seemed to be the rules of those who lived here, except for a handful of daring strangers I saw lingering outside a packed bar, a few chuckling loudly, drunkenly swaying with the leaning buildings. The rambunctious group had begun to make their way down the street, following a tall man with a cane that clacked against the cobblestone roads. He looked old, or maybe just worn, from his intense angularity and sharpened points. Though, further inspection had proved otherwise, showing the man's— er, boy's- cheeks puffed slightly on his angled face and hard expression. His soft jaw had seemed to be the only way to know he was young. He had actually appeared to be my age.

As the gang passed me with animated motions, I gave a quick wink to one that peered at me for far too long. My eyes were welcoming; entrancing. They were an enticing trap; a siren song that lured in those who thought too little about importances and too much about lust. The man whistled at me and even stopped, turning in my direction. I scanned him for any riches I'd need for future purchases or predicaments. A pocket watch had caught my eye. It dripped out from his chest pocket by a chain, which adorned his tailored suit that had been mishandled from the bar.

His mates had stopped, one making a groan of frustration. "You cannot hit on every pretty gal who acknowledges ya', Big B," a man slurred with a drunken scowl. The broad man, apparently Big B, strutted his way to me, towering over my body with a sly grin.

"You alone in the Barrel?" His words slipped on the sharp constants and bubbled in his deep voice. The Barrel? I remember being confused by that statement. I looked away bashfully for a moment before offering him batting eyes and a small smile. He took both with haste, his gaze narrowing as I had stepped closer to him. Big B's friends behind him protested, a few stumbling towards him to drag him away. Shit, time for the emergency plan B, I had thought to myself, anxious to snag him watch and sell it to the nearest pawn shop for much too little.

I tripped over the uneven cobbles in the road as I shrunk the space between Big B and I, my hands falling in front of my tipping body onto his chest, right by his pocket.

"I am so sorry, sir, really, I didn't mean to-," my nervous pleas and apologies were stopped shortly by a deep, throaty laugh from the muscular man.

"Doll, no worries at all," he said. I had clutched my hands over my chest, the golden watch trapped between my palms. Shortly after, a few dirtied hands grabbed the thick arms of Big B before dragging him away from where I stood. I made a quick escape to a nearby alley as the men squabbled with one another. I slipped the watch into my pocket as I heard the enraged yells of Big B; he hadn't been able to find his watch for some reason. The roars faded and meshed with the voices of Ketterdam as I climbed my way up to the rooftops of the city.

The night had ticked away on the watched I clutched, my eyes filled with greed and satisfaction with every tik and tok it made. I had found myself my very own sliver of Ketterdam to hide in, an indent of a building that was covered with a dirtied sheet and stacked crates of spoiled produce.

My dreams of freedom and riches were halted by the familiar sound of a cane hitting cobblestone, followed by an unfamiliar noise of a cane hitting me in the arm, not hard enough to break it, but enough to leave a large bruise soon; a warning. I had yelped and contorted my body around the cloth roof of my shelter, lunging at the shadow of a figure; a diversion, as my father taught me, an eye catcher, as my mother had said. The attacker smacked me in the stomach with force, their cane causing my ribs to vibrate like a xylophone. I ignored the intense throbbing pain— another trick I had learned on the boat- as I rolled part of the sheet up. With a few flicks of my wrists, the wrung cloth was tightly around the neck of my current opponent. I squeezed tighter as I stared at them.

Before me had stood a reddening face— suffocation has that affect on people- of the sharp, dark boy from earlier. The ring leader of his own gritty circus. He once again used his cane to hit me in the leg, but I used this falling opportunity I had felt to smack my forehead into his. This along with the chokehold I had him in caused the boy to fall back, his well-groomed, dark hair covering his eyes a bit. He was strangely beautiful now that I had noticed it, in an intense sort of way.

Time was ticking away as I observed him, so I shoved him into the alley wall, where an eroded brick cut his lower lip. I ran with haste into the slick street as rain began to pour down in large globs. My hair had stuck to my skin, along with my wet clothes, where the gold watch was pocketed.

✶ ♧ ✶

My chilly hands fumble through my pants pockets, finding the signature time-teller of mine; a—now quite scratched- good pocket watch that hung from a thin chain. I held it in my palms, the sharp cold nipping at my finger tips. Kaz's eyes were glued on the small clock, his lower lip twitching. I toss it to him, and he unsurprisingly catches it with a single gloved hand.

"Maybe there is some fate," I finally melted the silence with a warm voice. I chuckle softly, looking at Kaz, his round cheeks and soft jaw were long gone, and he seemed to have become sharper and harder over the two years that past, the Barrel chipping away at his humanity with greediness to destroy a boy. His lower lip had a scar that ran down the center, an immortal reminder of the time a former pirate girl got a leg up on Kaz Brekker, no one got a let up on Kaz Brekker.

"Or maybe Ketterdam is too small for those with such high ambition," the oddly attractive boy responds with a rasp.

"I think that may be the nicest thing you've ever said to me," I reply with a light laugh. Kaz doesn't say anything, but he met my gaze with eyes that weren't completely filled with hatred.

________________

Word Count: 1889

________________

I took a quick break from writing to allow my creative drive to return, thought it's better to write better than write more.

-Valentine

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canonicallyobserving911 · 5 months

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“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

Season 7 FANON Speculation: Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - Hiatus Reading: “I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Chapter 15 is now available on AO3.

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Currently 15 chapters completed: 486.5K Words; Rated: Mature

One chapter will be posted at a time.

___________

Here's a romantically fluffy snippet from Chapter 15 from one of Buck's and Eddie's conversations.

___________

Eddie and Buck pull back at the same time and call each other’s names.

Eddie says, “Buck?” and Buck says, “Eddie?”

Eddie thinks, ‘This is it! It’s the moment I ask Buck to spend his life with me.’ And Buck thinks, ‘I’m getting ready to ask him to spend forever with me.’

They start talking at the same time again.

Buck asks, “Eddie, will you marry me?” and Eddie asks, “Buck, will you marry me?”

They lean their foreheads together again and chuckle because they’ve always been in sync, just like they are right now.

Breathlessly Eddie says, “We both just proposed.”

“We did!” Buck admits, then says, “We both want the same thing… to be together forever”.

What will be Buck's and Eddie's responses to their proposals?👀

___________

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it. But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.

__________

Chapter Summaries

Chapter 1 - Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.

Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.

Chapter 3 - After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.

Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.

Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.

Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.

Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago. They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are the foundations of a long-lasting love relationship.

Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.

Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial. But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.

Chapter 10 - As Buck and Eddie finally begin to confront their past traumas, they realize how much they need each other to fill in the gaps of their memories. Additionally, the universe screams at them for what appears to be the one hundredth time so Buck can realize he doesn’t have to ‘find it’ because he already ‘made it’ and Eddie’s reminded tomorrow isn’t promised and he doesn’t have to die alone if he doesn’t want to.

Chapter 11 - A “virga” or dry thunderstorm is in the forecast but once the rain starts, the thunderstorm happening outside won’t be able to match the storm brewing inside between Buck and Eddie. It’s the universe’s final scream and when the tumultuous winds begin to blow, they’ll have one last chance to hold onto everything they’ve built over the last six years or they’ll lose it all forever.

Chapter 12 - Buck and Eddie have always shared a deep physical attraction and an emotional intimacy that’s unmatched but now that they’re in a relationship, they’re learning how to navigate the romantic intimacy they’ve been waiting for six years to explore. The love they have for each other is a once in a lifetime, soulmate, love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time.

Chapter 13 - While navigating the newness of their romantic relationship, Buck and Eddie take advantage of every moment they spend together. As their individual lives, people from their pasts, time constraints and the possibility of losing each other again make attempts to interrupt and interfere with their journey to forever, they love, care for, support and hold onto each other even tighter to withstand it all.

Chapter 14 - Buck and Eddie can see the lights at the end of the tunnels regarding the results of Buck’s Cancer Screening along with everything else they’re dealing with. But are the lights they see exits to the tunnels or are they headlights on different runaway trains that are speeding towards them in an effort to interrupt their forever?

Chapter 15 - Buck and Eddie have known they were exactly who the other one wanted in a partner since they met six years ago when they agreed to have each other’s backs. They’re in a romantic relationship, they’re both preparing to ask the other one to spend forever with them and by the end of the seventh week into their relationship, together they will plan their most important and greatest adventure for their future.

Chapter 16 - Will be posted soon.

__________

Read chapters 1-15 are available on AO3.

Continue reading on AO3

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #christopher diaz #the buckley diaz family #buddie fanfic #buckley diaz family #911 fanfic #ao3 fanfic #Fanonwriter2023 on AO3 #Hiatus Reading #I'm still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!#Chapter 15 is now available on AO3

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